


Dim City Glow

by Interrobang



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Come Swallowing, Face-Fucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobang/pseuds/Interrobang
Summary: Hanzo steps away from a party for a breath of fresh air, but McCree is more than distracting enough to keep Hanzo from gathering his thoughts.Good thing Hanzo doesn't need to think much for this anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to dedicate this fic to jamieisclassic on tumblr for giving the instruction to "keep on writing nasty shit." I feel extremely blessed.

There’d been a party. Hanzo forgot for what, really, by the time he needed to escape from it. There’d been music, and suits, and drinks.

Lots of drinks.

He’d made the executive decision to step outside for some fresh air. He’d found a balcony-- some dark retreat behind tinted glass that looked out onto the shimmering city ahead of them, dozens of stories below.

His head swam a bit from the drink and at the height, and he popped open a button on his shirt, pulled at the knot of his tie. Festivities were still going strong and he wouldn’t be missed if he decided to hide away. Laying low might have been a good idea for Hanzo, considering he’d lost track of the cocktails that had been pushed into his hand.

Well, pushed was a strong word. Gently handed, more like. Gratefully accepted.

Hanzo was not a fan of parties.

He sighed and turned his head into the breeze. Distantly he could hear night traffic rushing by. The sedate hum of the party was muffled through the wall of opaque glass behind him.

The hubbub briefly rose in volume as the door opened and admitted one decidedly well-groomed McCree onto Hanzo’s hiding spot. He was holding a full glass in each hand and had a wide grin on his face.

He pecked a kiss on Hanzo’s cheek and pushed the taller glass into Hanzo’s hand. It fizzed and threatened to slosh on his cuffs. 

“Thought I might find you here.” McCree nodded to the cup. “Just cola for you, sweetpea. Thought a man that keeps a flask on him might know to pace himself a little better, but here we are.”

Hanzo hummed and took a sip. It was shockingly cold and sweet, and he sighed. Maybe it would clear his head a little.

Hanzo turned and leaned against the metal-and-glass structure of the balcony rail and took in the sight before him. The city was at his back, and its neon illuminated the angles of McCree’s face in ethereal blues. His beard was neatly kept for once and someone had gotten him to comb his shaggy hair back, leaving a few handsome curls free to spring on his forehead. His relaxed smile didn’t help matters: Hanzo was struck, once again, by how smitten he was with this ridiculous man.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” McCree fidgeted under Hanzo’s scrutinizing glare, wiping at his beard for stray bits of canapé.

“No,” Hanzo said fondly. “Nothing there.” He leaned into McCree’s side. His attempt to rest his head delicately on McCree’s chest only resulted in him nearly spilling his soda, sending him sloshing backwards as he tried to regain his balance. 

“Woah, there!” McCree grabbed his elbow to right him. He smiled despite the small stain on his shirt. At Hanzo’s distressed look, McCree plucked at the fabric dismissively. “Aw, don’t mind that. The jacket’ll hide it anyhow. Here, sweetpea, let’s get you steady.” 

He shuffled Hanzo around and led him over to the outside wall of the balcony, pressing him up against the cool expanse of the rail. McCree’s arms bracketed him on either side, and Hanzo was left clutching his drink and wobbling slightly as McCree hovered at his back.

“Damn nice view, huh?” McCree said quietly.

Hanzo blinked heavily. The city swam brightly in front of him. McCree was warm at his back; and Hanzo had his fresh air, yes, but it smelled faintly like the acrid tang of booze and cigar smoke. The urge to close his eyes and flop down on McCree was overwhelming. So he did just that.

“Hoo boy,” McCree grunted. He caught Hanzo with an  _ oof  _ and circled his arms around Hanzo’s waist, holding them together. “You gotta be more careful, Hanzo. It’s a bit of a fall from here.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of Hanzo’s head, and Hanzo could feel himself glow with how dopey his smile was. “Wouldn’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t--” Hanzo struggled in his awkward position, frowning drunkenly. “I do not want to lose you either.”

“Then you might want to stand up straight, sugar.” McCree hefted him bodily, setting Hanzo on his feet. 

Hanzo laughed-- a hysterical sound that bordered on a giggle-- and only leaned into McCree’s chest again. “I could not-- heh heh-- I could not stand up  _ straight  _ if I  _ tried _ .” He broke out into snorting laughter into McCree’s shirtfront again.

McCree started to turn away. He made to duck back inside the door. “Okay, honey, I think we’re done here. I’ll go let everyone know we’re goin’ and we’ll--”

Hanzo’s hand shot out and grabbed McCree’s tie, pulling him close to kiss him sloppily.

“We are fine where we are, cowboy.” He was attempting to be coy, but his words were a little more slurred than intended. 

McCree just rolled his eyes and gently moved Hanzo out of the way. There was a large potted plant a couple yards from the door, and McCree propped Hanzo up against its massive ceramic rim. Hanzo went easily enough. McCree’s burgundy tie slipped out of his hand as his arm fell limply to his side.

Hanzo leaned up against the wall and started to pet the plant’s giant heart-shaped leaves. McCree was still standing next to him, and he grabbed Hanzo’s free hand, squeezing it gently.

Hanzo’s hand stilled on one huge, waxy leaf. He looked up at McCree. The lights of the city were still reflecting on McCree’s face, but his soft eyes were locked on Hanzo and Hanzo alone, made all the more intense by the contrast of the neon behind him. A cool breeze ruffled a loose curl on his temple. Hanzo was awestruck.

He pulled McCree’s intertwined fingers to his mouth and laid a kiss upon them, holding both their hands to his face as he closed his eyes breathed deeply. He made a distressed noise when McCree tugged his hand away, but it was back quickly, cupping Hanzo’s chin and turning his head upwards. 

McCree kissed him slowly. It was chaste to begin with, but promising, and Hanzo’s head was still just the right side of fuzzy to enjoy it. McCree’s fingers on his jaw pet his beard and the soft skin of his shaved nape, sliding to hold the warm curve of Hanzo’s skull in one large, calloused hand.

Hanzo huffed breathily when McCree pressed closer, almost pushing Hanzo into the potted plant, and he widened his legs to accommodate. Hanzo slipped a hand under McCree’s suit jacket, resting at the small of his back, where his shirt tucked into his pants. He was at just a height to use McCree’s belt as a steady handhold as he wobbled on the edge of the planter and tried to kiss McCree at the same time.

McCree chuckled and broke the kiss. 

“Still good where we are?” he teased.

Hanzo nodded dumbly. “Very good. Extremely good.” He wiggled a finger as he swayed in his seat. “Come here.”

McCree outright laughed at him, smothering Hanzo in an overbearing hug that just forced Hanzo’s hot face into the pudge of McCree’s middle, his suit jacket making a dark cave around Hanzo’s head. Hanzo managed to turn it into something resembling a grope. He slipped his hand down past McCree’s tucked-in shirt and into his underwear, managing to get an awkward handful of ass. 

McCree jumped. “Quit it, you know I’m ticklish.”

Hanzo pressed kisses into McCree’s middle and kept kneading. Everything swayed around him. The party thumped dully in the distance, hidden back beyond the plant behind him and muted by the opaque glass.

“Aw, c’mon, Hanzo, that’s enou-gh--” McCree’s voice hitched when Hanzo’s other hand grasped at his belt buckle. It was a simple one tonight, not so obnoxious that it’d clash with his outfit, thank god. And it was easy to open. Score one for Hanzo’s alcohol-numbed fingers.

“ _ Hanzo _ .” McCree put his open palm on Hanzo’s face and effectively shoved him away. “What are you doing?”

Hanzo nuzzled his face into McCree’s palm. All it really did was smush his nose and ruffle his beard. “I am trying to have sex with you,” he said, muffled. He paused and looked around. “In this plant.”

“On this balcony. At this party,” McCree deadpanned.

Hanzo nodded solemnly. “ _ Yes _ .”

McCree seemed ready to scold, but something made him stop and reconsider. It may have been the ambient lights of the balcony, which conveniently dim. It may have been the music, which blasted louder from the party inside, effectively ensuring them privacy. 

It may have been Hanzo’s hands quietly pulling his belt free from its loops.

“...Are you serious?” McCree muttered. One large hand came up to rest softly on Hanzo’s head as he looked around nervously.

Hanzo just looked up at him with wide, happy eyes and tugged more insistently at the button of his pants.

“Fine,” McCree grumbled. “But we better make this quick.”

“I believe that depends on you,” Hanzo mumbled with a pleased smile.

McCree relented with a soft huff, unbuttoning his suit jacket and letting it fall open. Hanzo was already working on his pants, pulling out the tails of his button-up and tugging McCree’s underwear down just enough to reveal his cock.

“I see I was not entirely alone in my intentions,” Hanzo said smugly. He took McCree in hand and held his half-hard cock gently.

“Yeah, yeah,” McCree said. “Yuk it up, funny guy.”

Hanzo leaned in and rested his hot forehead on McCree’s hipbone as he started to easily work McCree’s dick in his hand.

“I would  _ never  _ mock you,” Hanzo said seriously. “You are too  _ precious  _ to mock.” He looked up at McCree from where he was propped. “And too easy a target.”

“Aw, shut it.” McCree looked away, laughing. A handsome curl sat on his temple and an endearing flush on his face, and Hanzo found himself with a decidedly dry mouth.

Hanzo blinked heavily, relishing the soft heat in his face, the pleasant dizziness from the alcohol. McCree’s cock was silky smooth in his hand and just a tad wet at the tip, and Hanzo hummed happily as he swiped his thumb over it, spreading a drip of precome around. 

McCree’s hand settled more firmly in Hanzo’s hair, near the tie of his topknot. If there was one thing Hanzo regretted about his haircut, it was that there was less for McCree to grab onto.

A strand of his hair came loose as Hanzo held McCree’s stiff cock up and slowly mouthed at its length, kissing the base of it and working his way back up to the tip. He teased the delicate foreskin, pulling it back as he worked McCree’s slit with the tip of his tongue. He dug it in, causing McCree to groan slightly and pull harder at Hanzo’s hair.

Hanzo laughed a little and sucked at the head, making wet, sloppy noises as he massaged the crown of McCree’s cock with the flat of his tongue. One hand slid up the fabric of McCree’s pants to cup his heavy balls, rubbing the soft skin between them as Hanzo got lost in the feeling of a full mouth and buzzing arousal.

He could hear the huge leaves of the plant rustle behind him as he settled his rear on the hard ceramic rim of its pot. Beyond that was the thumping of the party continuing on blissfully without them; and beyond that, the cool breeze blowing around the towering building. It was almost reverently silent in the small space between Hanzo and McCree, the air warm with their shared body heat.

Hanzo pulled off, panting, and looked up at McCree with wide, dreamy eyes. 

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

McCree just about choked on his own spit, his flush deepening.

“You sure, darlin’?” he all but squeaked. “We still have to go back in there, you know.”

Hanzo nodded emphatically. 

“I want you to fuck my mouth, Jesse. Come down my throat, then take me home and fuck me with your fat cock.” Hanzo nuzzled McCree’s thick shaft, sucking idly along it as he rubbed his hands up and down McCree’s legs. 

Hanzo leaned back in his seat, swaying a little. A few leaves rustled against his back when he sat up and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. McCree was staring at him, biting his lip indecisively.  

“Well?”

McCree shuffled closer, putting one hand on each side of Hanzo’s head, caressing his jaw.

“Better get to it, sweetheart. They’ll be missing us soon.”

Hanzo sighed happily and leaned in, gripping McCree’s hips. 

When McCree finally started to move, Hanzo leaned into it, relaxing his jaw and moaning. He savored the feeling of hot flesh pushing over the sensitive flat of his tongue, and slurped happily when the head pressed against his palate. His face was hot with exertion and arousal as he worked within the restricted space McCree would give him.

It was only when McCree gripped the clean-shaven sides of his skull and started to fuck into him that Hanzo really got into it. He hummed, breathing between slides as McCree shallowly thrust into the fluttering clutch of Hanzo’s throat.

McCree let out a strangled “ _ Shit! _ ” when Hanzo wrapped his arms around his waist to clutch at his still-clothed rear, forcing him closer, pulling him deeper. McCree’s movements got jerkier and rougher, shoving Hanzo down onto him until his nose was pressed into his pubes over and over again, almost choking Hanzo on his cock. 

McCree harshly tore Hanzo’s head away from his crotch. Hanzo panted, eyes hazy. He knew, distantly, that he was hard and tenting his pants, but the faint pleasure there was secondary to the satisfaction of being  _ used _ . A thin string of spit connected McCree’s cock to Hanzo’s red, fuck-swollen lips. Hanzo absently darted out his tongue, breaking it. He tried to move forward again, mouth opening greedily, but was stopped by McCree’s hard grip on his head.

“You too far gone to swallow, or am I gonna have to pull out a hanky and clean you up?”

Hanzo just panted harshly, red mouth open and tongue a needy, wet tease in the dim neon of the distant city lights.

“Talk to me, Han.”

Hanzo swallowed thickly and replied. “Just  _ use  _ me.”

McCree stroked his cheek fondly before resuming his grip. Hanzo whined when McCree only guided the tip of his cock into his mouth, pushing the head of it into Hanzo’s cheek and rubbing himself off from the outside with the palm of his other hand.

“You like that, sugar? I could fuck you just like this, use your sweet little mouth like a goddamn fleshlight.” McCree’s eyes were heavily lidded and deep in shadow, the lights of the city behind him, but they twinkled dangerously. “If you want me to fuck you later you better finish round one real soon or I might not have the energy.”

Hanzo frantically started sucking the minute McCree’s hands let go of his jaw, moving to rest idly in Hanzo’s hair. He slurped and moaned, gagging for a second but determinedly persevering. Hanzo let his hands grope happily at McCree’s ass, pulling him as close as he dared. 

If someone walked out onto their balcony now, the potted plant wouldn’t hide a goddamn thing.

Hanzo knew McCree was close when the cowboy lost all sense of coherent speech, babbling in broken half-words and swears. He took one last deep breath and pushed himself onto McCree, forcing him into his throat, wiggling around McCree’s cock so he knew McCree would feel every ridge of his palate as Hanzo swallowed him down.

McCree hunched around Hanzo’s head as he came, groaning harshly as he spilled thick pulses of come down Hanzo’s throat. Hanzo gulped and kept sucking long after the first waves of McCree’s orgasm left him. McCree’s dick twitched and pulsed in his mouth, come flooding over his tongue. A dribble of it escaped out of the corner of his mouth and ended up in Hanzo’s beard, pearly white and sticky in the short hairs.

McCree gently pulled his softening cock out of Hanzo’s mouth and tucked himself away before wiping at the leak with his thumb. He pulled out a soft cotton handkerchief from his pocket.

“Looks like I had to clean you up after all,” McCree said, chuckling. He stared lovingly down at Hanzo, who was wobbling on the edge of the giant planter. He looked completely blissed out: eyes almost closed, face a flushed mess. His hair was halfway loose and falling in his eyes, and Hanzo looked for all the world like he couldn’t care less.

Hanzo sighed, content.

“C’mon, darlin’, let’s get you home.” McCree hoisted Hanzo up by the elbow, straightening out the wrinkles in his slacks while Hanzo retied his hair.

Hanzo pulled at his shirt, frowning. 

“Looks like you got something there, hon’.” McCree teased, looking at the obvious stain on Hanzo’s shirt. A wet glob of white dripped off a button, soaking the fabric around it. Hanzo shuffled his coat around, closing it as he stood up and attempted to make himself presentable.

“The jacket’ll hide it, anyhow,” Hanzo teased, mirroring McCree’s earlier words.

McCree grinned, jerking his head knowingly at Hanzo’s groin. His pants were clearly tented.

“Sure, darlin’, but I don’t think it’ll hide  _ that _ . Might wanna, uh,  _ situate  _ yourself before we go back in.”

Hanzo reached out to adjust McCree’s tie. He fiddled with the knot while he spoke.

“It is dark, and there are strobe lights on. You could probably finish me off in the middle of the crowd and no one would notice.”

McCree’s grin widened to the point that it could be called ‘shit-eating.’ 

“What, and take this private show public?” He paused, seeming to mull it over. “Think I’d rather take you home and fuck you like you wanted. With-- what was it you called it?” Hanzo groaned and threw his head in his hands, embarrassed. “Oh yeah, my  _ fat cock _ .” 

McCree leaned in and placed a possessive hand on the back of Hanzo’s neck. Clean-shaven, Hanzo’s nape was more sensitive than ever. He shivered and jerked away, nervously patting himself down.

“The alcohol is wearing off,” Hanzo said gruffly. The pink in his cheeks belied his eagerness. “You must either ply me with another strong drink or leave with me immediately-- I cannot deal with this situation within any other option.”

McCree laughed, gathering up their glasses and herding Hanzo back through the thick glass door to the party, which hadn’t even paused in their absence.

  
“Then let’s mosey on out of here, babydoll.”


	2. Neon Halo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo and McCree go back to their hotel room to finish what they started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a joy to write, and I would like to thank the person that made this possible: Swintendtonitch on tumblr. Thanks a ton! Thanks also to Soapasaurus for betaing this time. I seriously appreciate it.

Nobody batted an eye when McCree and Hanzo left the party early, stolen drinks in hand. After all, they weren’t really _required_ to be there, and since most people had seen Hanzo taking drink after drink, at least a few of their friends laughed as they wished the couple well on their travels.

“Alright, babe, easy now,” McCree said, guiding Hanzo through the crowded halls. The music still pounded behind them, leaving a tipsy Hanzo looking a little dazed. “One foot in front of the other.”

“I am not-- heh-- _incapacitated_ , Jesse,” Hanzo said (with only a slight slur in his voice). “I have had less than six drinks over three hours, _and_ I had a soda, _and_ I even ate one of those hors d'oeuvres they were passing around. The mini--min-- little egg things. I’m fine.”

“I believe you,” McCree said with a chuckle, still guiding Hanzo with a hand on his back. He crowded his date towards the elevators, laughing when Hanzo sluggishly swatted at the call button.

McCree looked around the hall; the party had taken up most of a conference room and the adjacent hall was therefore empty, the only witnesses to their antics a few potted plants and an abandoned room service tray. Therefore it only seemed right to crowd up behind Hanzo, sliding his arms around his date’s shoulders. McCree nuzzled into Hanzo’s neck, pressing wet kisses to the small space behind his ear.

Hanzo shuddered and sighed, tilting his head away to give him better access.

“Mmm,” Hanzo hummed, placing one hand over McCree’s where it clasped his chest over his dress shirt. “Very nice indeed, but I thought you wanted to go somewhere more private, cowboy.”

“Maybe I did, and maybe I do,” McCree said slyly, whispering into the sensitive shell of Hanzo’s ear. “And maybe I just wanna make you squirm a little first.” And with that he blew a raspberry into Hanzo’s neck, ducking out of the way of a surprised fist.

Hanzo squawked and chased him into the arriving elevator.

“You are an _awful_ man,” Hanzo said through snorting laughter. He tumbled with his date into the elevator, pressing him against the wall with barely enough presence of mind to hit the button for their floor before smothering the cowboy in kisses. “I think I like it.”

“ _Yeah_ you do,” McCree said with a grin, running his hands up and down Hanzo’s suit-jacket-covered back. “Say, sweetheart, it looks like you’ve still got a little something there.” He tilted Hanzo’s jaw in his hand, swiping a thumb over Hanzo’s bottom lip. The tiniest speck of cum still stuck to his beard, just in the divot under that damn pouty lip of his.

Hanzo stuck his tongue out and licked his thumb.

“Oh-ho, it’s like that, huh?” McCree said, laughing at Hanzo’s attempt at a sultry expression.

“Mmm, yes it is,” Hanzo sighed, letting McCree’s thumb go in favor of leaning in for a kiss. McCree gave up the switch easily, tugging Hanzo close so they could enjoy the soft moment of silence as the elevator took them to their floor. Their kisses quickly turned hungry, their imminent stop adding a bit of urgency. Every floor closer to their own meant it was more likely they would be interrupted.

They jumped apart when the elevator stopped, hands quickly tucked into their pockets. Hanzo tried to subtly rearrange himself as an older woman and her husband stepped into the elevator with their suitcases, obviously on their way to the lobby.

“Evening, ma’am,” McCree said smoothly. She nodded in response, but didn’t seem to be in the mood for chitchat. Hanzo glared at McCree as the elevator finally, blessedly stopped on their floor. It took all of Hanzo’s willpower not to grab McCree’s ass as they exited the car.

Luckily, McCree did not have that same willpower. The doors were barely closed behind them when McCree hauled a whooping Hanzo up over his shoulder and carried him down the hall, marching to their door with a laugh and a spring in his step that was sure to wake some of their neighbors. He even slapped Hanzo’s ass once for good measure.

“Jesse-- stop--” Hanzo laughed.

“Not a chance, partner!” McCree laughed back, handily unlocking the door with a swipe of the key card. “This my terrible, awful revenge.” He set Hanzo down inside the threshold of their room and swept inside, shutting the door with a definitive click.

“Revenge, hm?” Once more, Hanzo drew McCree close, kissing him gently and ending with a nip to his lips that was more than flirtatious. “For what, exactly?”

“For seducing me in public, you minx,” McCree said. He pecked Hanzo’s cheek. “For drinking fast enough that I couldn’t catch up.” Another kiss, this time to Hanzo’s neck. “For wearing this damn suit. Thing’s tailored so tight you look like you could flex and the damn sleeves would pop off.”

Hanzo chuckled gleefully as McCree tugged at his suit jacket, easily undressing the still-tipsy archer. Hanzo still felt loose and pliant from the drinks he’d downed, and the feel of McCree’s warm hands on his body was just luxurious enough to make him sigh and squirm. 

“Get undressed and wait for me,” Hanzo purred, shrugging off his coat. “I’ll just be a minute. Maybe longer. I haven’t prepared myself for this in a while.”

“Blame that on your fine, beautiful body, Mr. Shimada,” McCree said with a wink. He carefully set aside his suit jacket, unbuttoning his shirt as he watched Hanzo hungrily. “Can’t help but take it for a ride of my own every now and then, now can I?”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Yeehaw, cowboy,” he said with a dopey smile. “You are as good at riding as you are at flirting.”

“Fantastic? Wonderful?”

“Quick to hand all the work to me,” Hanzo said. And with that he disappeared into the bathroom.

The cool air felt blessedly chilly on Hanzo’s skin when he finally peeled off his sweaty button-down and slacks. His hard-on had subsided for the most part between the elevator and the room, but his heart still raced with excitement at the thought of what was to come. He swallowed and rubbed his throat, which was still sore from its rough treatment.

He wanted to be held down. Or maybe held _up;_ he wasn’t picky. Hanzo loved the feeling of giving up his wellbeing to someone he trusted-- and McCree was most certainly that. Hanzo trusted McCree to know when to stop, to know when enough was enough-- but also to push Hanzo to his limits so he could eke every drop of pleasure out of the man.

The balcony was just one example. Hanzo could give him directions, sure, but it was McCree that had to make the final call. He was fantastic at making hard decisions.

Hanzo sighed as he ran the shower, shaking out the kinks in his neck and back from standing all night. He stretched until his spine popped, then started to do some twists. He made exactly one attempt to touch his toes before he gave that up entirely, still too off-balance to do much more than tap his knees.

He was clean-- this much he had planned for, at least. Hanzo knew himself, and he knew that drinking made him incorrigibly horny, and the last thing anyone wanted to do when they were drunk was twist around in a slippery death trap trying to clean their asshole. But stretching? The fun parts were still left to do.

Hanzo soaped himself up eagerly, humming as the hot water rinsed off the day’s sweat. He gave his cock one indulgent squeeze before sudsing the rest of himself up, scrubbing and lathering where he felt like he needed. Distantly he thought how nice it would have been to have a proper soaking tub here. Somewhere he could drink _and_ soak, and maybe have McCree return the favor from earlier. He stood in the hot water for some minutes as the soap rinsed off him, entertaining thoughts of riding his lover with a hot bath to look forward to after.

He was just clicking open the lube he had strategically stashed in the bathroom (Hanzo Shimada knew what he was about) when he heard the door crack open. Soon enough Hanzo was joined in the cubicle by a body big enough to make the already small space crowded.

“Hello there,” Hanzo purred. He sighed as McCree rested his hands on Hanzo’s waist, slipping in remnants of soap.

“You were takin’ a while. Thought I’d join you and see what’s up.”

“I was just taking my time.”

McCree raised an eyebrow and nodded to the lube. “You need any help with that?”

Hanzo smiled, wide and genuine. “Be my guest. God knows the last thing I need is to trip and fall in the shower because I could not finger myself at the right angle.”

McCree chuckled and pressed a kiss to Hanzo’s damp collarbone. “Then excuse me while I intrude, here. Goddamn, you have a nice body.”

“So you have said. Loudly and repeatedly,” Hanzo said with a grin. He turned around and pressed the length of his body against McCree’s, purposefully swaying a little in the steam. “Now get to work. I still intend to take you before I fall asleep.”

“Yessir,” McCree said with a little salute of the lube bottle. Still, he took his time running his hands down Hanzo’s back, appreciating the curves and bulges of hard-won muscles. His fingers scraped over old scars and new, ending at the pert curve of Hanzo’s ridiculously muscular ass. “God, what a sight. I’m pretty sure I could balance a glass on the shelf of your ass, babe.”

Hanzo snorted with laughter. “We should try it sometime, cowboy. I’ll hold up your whiskey with my wonderful butt and you can take your leisure.”

“Oh, I’ll _take my leisure_ ,” McCree said with a near-giggle, his waggling eyebrows practically audible. “Come a little closer, sweetpea.”

“I don’t see-- ah!-- how I could _get_ any closer,” Hanzo complained, swaying in McCree’s arms. Still, he leaned back. “This damned shower is not built for men of our size.”

“Then you should probably relax a bit so we can move this somewhere else,” McCree grumbled. He pressed a heavy, teeth-dragging kiss to Hanzo’s damp shoulder and slid his slick fingers between Hanzo’s cheeks as he did so, grinning as Hanzo’s breath hitched a fraction-- barely heard over the running water.

“That’s it,” McCree murmured into Hanzo’s shoulder. “You gonna relax nice and soft for me? Let me open you up? You wanted-- oh, what was it?-- my _fat cock,_ right?”

Hanzo didn’t respond, too caught up in his dreamlike state to be embarrassed about his earlier words. He was still pleasantly buzzed, warm, held against the love of his life, and now being fingered into the next plane of existence. He groaned as McCree held him higher, spread his cheeks a little wider, pressed an extra finger in. He did finally cry out when McCree twisted and crooked just right-- the angle was awkward, but still he managed to nudge Hanzo’s prostate with a vicious tap that took Hanzo’s breath away.

“Yeah, there you go,” McCree murmured encouragingly. He jabbed again, holding Hanzo against him with his other arm slung across the archer’s chest. He held Hanzo through the gasps, the surprised twitches, and the desperately jittery leg movements.

When he finally pulled his fingers out and rinsed them, Hanzo looked wrecked: red all the way to his ears, pupils blown wide. His mouth hung slightly open as he leaned against the cool tile wall watching McCree with an adoring gaze. He seemed absolutely strung up in love.

“Come here,” Hanzo murmured, already moving in to kiss McCree. They stood together for a long moment, lips moving against each other with barely a breath shared. Hanzo tugged on McCree’s bottom lip with his teeth one last time, drawing it away before gently letting go. With a dopey smile, Hanzo ducked out of the shower and grabbed the only towel, taking it with him.

“Hey!” McCree yelped after him when he realised what Hanzo had done. “Don’t-- c’mon! Don’t leave me in here!”

\--

Later, after Hanzo had dried off and McCree had promptly gotten him wet again with a slippery tackle hug, they held each other in the intimate space of their room. They didn’t bother to dress again, and instead reveled in each other’s skin.

McCree kissed Hanzo sweetly, but that was not what Hanzo wanted. Instead, Hanzo pushed for a hungrier kiss: more teeth, more tongue, a tighter grip on his waist to keep him grounded. He grabbed McCree’s shoulders and held on tightly, rolling his hips against the waist-hold McCree had on him.

“I want you,” Hanzo growled. “To take me like you mean it. Like you did before.”

“What, where everyone can see you?” McCree asked, a little dazedly.

Hanzo cocked his head to the side. He didn’t miss the way McCree’s eyes followed the long lien of his neck. “I was thinking… perhaps against the window.”

McCree turned his head obediently at Hanzo’s nod. Indeed, the window to the luxurious bedroom was still several floors above street level, high enough that nobody would be able to see anything they were doing. In the dark, with the cavalcade of neon surrounding them, no one would be able to make out much more than two indistinct figures silhouetted against the glass.

McCree grinned. “First you seduce me on a balcony, dragging me into a dang potted plant where anybody could see us. Now you want me against the window? For shame, Mr. Shimada. Where’s your sense of decency?”

“Gone with the rest of my virtues,” Hanzo laughed, and tugged McCree back with him to the plush curtains of the suite. He quickly tugged them out of the way, cackling when McCree snuck up behind him and rolled against his body, peppering his back with kisses as the archer completed their reveal to the world.

“Breathtaking,” McCree murmured. His hands tightened on Hanzo’s waist, fingers lingering on the warm skin.

Hanzo turned from where was looking out at the city awash in a neon glow. “I suppose it is. But I like my view in here much better.”

McCree laughed into another kiss. “I thought I was supposed to be the charmer around here.”

“We were both thinking it,” Hanzo said with an arched eyebrow. “I just got to it first. Now come; my buzz is wearing off and I want you inside me before I’m completely sober.”

McCree shook with laughter at that, but he obediently manhandled Hanzo around, arranging his pliant limbs every which way. With a final sucking kiss, McCree lined his cock up with Hanzo’s obligingly raised ass. He teased a little bit-- grinding against Hanzo’s slick crack, barely kissing the tip to Hanzo’s hole-- but when Hanzo grumbled he laughed quietly and got to work.

His laughter quickly turned into a groan as he slid in. The first pop of his head working past Hanzo’s rim earned them both a moan, Hanzo arching his back just the way he knew McCree liked it. But the sounds that came after-- none of those were practiced. The long exhale as McCree slid home was audibly blissful, the ragged inhale when he pulled out sincere and heavy.

“A little faster,” Hanzo encouraged, leaning his forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane. “A little-- ah!-- a little harder.”

“Like before?” McCree asked, pulling against the grasp of Hanzo’s body so he could roll another thrust of his hips.

“Mmm, you know what I like,” Hanzo murmured. He gasped as McCree crowded up behind him, pressing the length of his bare, still-damp torso into the cold glass. McCree laughed wickedly as Hanzo went rigid around him, clamping down on his dick with the shock of it.

“That’s it, sweet thing. You like my cock?” McCree growled, leaning into the broad mass of Hanzo’s back. He pressed a hand between Hanzo’s shoulder blades and leaned into it, eating up every twitch of muscle and pulse of life under his fingers. “You like it when I fuck you like this?”

Hanzo somehow managed to retain enough dignity to laugh and fuck back against McCree with gusto. “You know I do, cowboy,” Hanzo snorted with a smile. He bit his lip against a particularly good thrust. “Oh fuck, do the-- please--”

He was lucky that McCree had taken him to bed enough times to understand. Every time this happened-- the parties, the drinking-- Hanzo would reach a point where he no longer wanted to work for anything.

“Alright, you damn pillow princess,” McCree rumbled affectionately. He pulled out briefly and flipped Hanzo around, hefting his partner up into his arms, hands under his knees. There was a squeak as Hanzo’s sweat-damp back slid against the floor-to-ceiling glass of the window, and then only wet, lewd echoes as McCree used every inch of his sturdy frame to take Hanzo apart.

Hanzo was usually loud and pushy in bed, but when he got like this-- pliant, focused-- McCree knew he was really enjoying himself. His and Hanzo’s relationship hinged on the fact that they could both take care of themselves and were aware that their reliance on each other was a choice. So when they fell into bed? All bets were off. If one person needed more care than the other that night, it was given, no questions asked.

Hanzo happened to “need” more “care” on the nights he drank. And so now he lay folded in McCree’s arms, ankles by his ears, back sticking to the cold glass with the whole city behind him as McCree fucked him hard and deep. Hanzo groaned and clenched down when McCree started to tire, thrusts going shallow and jackrabbit-fast.

“I ain’t got a hand to help you, sweetpea,” McCree panted, pressing wet kisses to Hanzo’s neck and shoulder as he rolled his hips one more time.

“It’s-- ah!--it’s _fine_ ,” Hanzo gasped. He rolled his hips viciously, using every bit of leverage he had to rub his cock against the plane of McCree’s stomach where it was trapped. Hair and water and muscle and pressure-- Hanzo tightened his grip on McCree’s shoulders and moaned, and that was it-- away he went, mind gone to pieces in one good, deep thrust. Hanzo let his body shake and shiver its way through orgasm. Gravity meant nothing when he got fucked like this, held up by someone else and not responsible for his own body.

Hanzo turned his head blindly to seek McCree’s mouth, whimpering into a kiss that burned his used throat from the ragged intake of air it required. McCree bit Hanzo’s lip and grunted as his thrusts turned erratic. In one jerky move he slipped out of Hanzo entirely, then groaned and spilled rope after rope of cum over Hanzo’s softening cock and balls.

Hanzo breathed deeply for a moment as McCree continued to rut against him, spreading their mess over the grooves of Hanzo’s thighs and ass. McCree looked down: cum dripped down Hanzo’s belly, over the still-thick jut of his cock, down the hairy weight of his balls and into the lube-shiny crevice of his crack.

“Gorgeous,” McCree mumbled, still a little dazed as he let Hanzo down onto his own two shaky feet.

Hanzo snorted another lightheaded giggle and retorted: “I know you are, but what am I?”

“You’re a ridiculous man, and I love you very much,” McCree replied tolerantly. “Let me wash you up a lil’ and I can show you how much. I know you like my cuddle skills-- deny it all you want.” He turned away to take the few short steps to their bathroom.

  
Hanzo strode in the opposite direction, away from the window-- steamy now, with a distinct body outline on it-- and flopped straight onto the bed.

Face first. Mess and all.

“Loser gets the wet spot,” Hanzo mumbled into the sheets, and promptly fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow my NSFW blog at hhgggx.tumblr.com. I post ficlets/prompts, polls, and other cool shit.


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